Sweet Dreams, Mr Steele
by nefret24
Summary: Doctor Holt helps to cure Mr. Steele of his bout of insomnia. Episode Continuation of A Good Night's Steele. Please RR.


Sweet Dreams, Mr. Steele

Author: Nefret24

Disclaimers: I do not own the characters, plot et cetera of Remington Steele. This story is not meant as an infringement on anyone's rights and is solely for entertainment. 

Summary: "Doctor" Holt aids insomniac Steele get his beauty rest. An episode continuation of "A Good Night's Steele."

Spoilers: A Good Night's Steele (obviously), very slight hints to Steele Sweet on You.

Feedback of any kind is thoroughly appreciated. 

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What had begun as her bold, impetuous gesture of sympathy had turned into a veritable onslaught on her senses. Her head swam as her body tilted backwards, deeply dipped with the precision and grace of a practiced dancer, their kiss enduring and intensifying. 

For a man claiming to be only half-awake, he sure knew what he was doing, Laura thought fleetingly, as she felt his fingers curl around her shoulders. Whatever this is, it definitely won't make sleep any easier tonight for either one of us.

She reluctantly recalled their guests out in the dining room, and with some effort, reclaimed her lips from him. "Time for dessert, Mr. Steele," Laura said dramatically and somewhat breathlessly. 

His eyebrow rose as his face displayed a truly bewildered, crestfallen expression. He straightened, taking her with him. He did not, however, relinquish his hold. 

She stood patiently in his embrace for a few moments, and finally smiled up at him, gently nudging his hand away from her waist so she could turn to face the countertop and the aforementioned dessert that sat atop it. 

With a couple quick flicks of the wrist, Laura finished off the rest of the mousse bowls with dollops of cream and then with one finger, scraped off the excess from the spoon. "Wouldn't want to waste all your hard work," she commented, licking her finger. "Especially work done under duress."

Running a hand behind his neck, he pursed his lips thoughtfully as he watched her deliberately seductive movements. "Duress is one way of putting it," he murmured.

"We really will have to do something about that," she purred. Noticing the familiar sparkle return to his eyes, she swept up the dessert tray and balancing it with one hand, sauntered out of his reach. "Later," she added, swinging her hips as she exited the kitchen, Steele close on her heels. 

Ivan and the doctor barely seemed to notice their absence. Plans for the clinic's new programs dominated most of the conversation. Steele himself barely attended the discussion, enraptured by his associate's subtle delight in his culinary creation and the inventive movements of her tongue across her spoon (carefully displayed to his eyes only). It certainly was an affective method of keeping one awake, he would give her that. 

What seemed like an interminable time later, they stood at the door together waving goodbye as their guests departed down the hall. 

As Steele shut the door, Laura returned to the table cluttered with empty dessert dishes and began to collect everything and place it onto the serving tray

"What an evening," Steele sighed deeply as he followed Laura into the kitchen with a few glasses held carefully in his hands. 

"It was a great success," Laura said with a smile, emptying the tray's contents carefully into the sink. 

He reached around her to add his glasses to the sink's contents and then, with light fingers on her hips, slowly turned her around to face him.

"The longest dessert course of my life," he said huskily as her hands came to rest on his lapels.

She gave him a smile and a quick peck on the lips. "It was delicious. You haven't, by any chance, pretended to be a professional chef in the past, have you?"

"Not professionally, no. But I have found" he kissed the corner of her mouth "that my culinary experience has reaped considerable rewards to rival those of a less honest enterprise."

"Oh, I don't know, that chocolate mousse could be considered downright sinful," Laura managed between kisses. "But- oh, Mr. Steele, you shouldn't be out of bed! Let the _doctor_ see to the dishes," she cooed as she led him out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

"I must be dreaming Laura leading me to the bedroom " he murmured thickly, his eyelids half closed. 

She didn't bother to turn on the lights, making sure the doorway remained open to let the light from the living room filter in. She smiled slightly to herself, looking at her weary employer, still carrying himself with perfect posture, maintaining all the lines of his suit, even as he was inches from toppling over. 

"A doctor must take care of her patients," she said, slipping off his jacket and opening the closet for a hanger.

"Do you always perform house calls, Doctor Holt?"

"Only for my favorite patients, Mr. Steele," she replied, closing the closet and brushing her lips against his forehead. "Now let's see about those shoes." 

She motioned for him to sit on the bed and he complied readily, the cool air of the apartment soothing as it came into contact with his socked feet. He closed his eyes without even realizing it and felt her hand gently touch his cheek. 

"Poor man- can't go to sleep with this tie on, can you?" she said softly, loosening said article from his neck. 

"Can't sleep period," he managed, licking his lower lip. 

"Well, we'll see about that. Lie down, Mr. Steele," she ordered in a soft voice, a hand on his shoulder exerting gentle pressure. 

"Now I know I must be dreaming," he said with a contented grunt, situating himself further onto the bed, his head finding a pillow and sinking into it without hesitation. 

She climbed into bed next to him and turning on her side, reached her hands up to his temples and began to gently rub in concentric circles. She was instantly gratified by a soft moan. 

"Laurraa," he slurred her name slightly, "if anything should ever if any mishap should befall the agency- not that I'm saying it would, mind you, but if it did I think you'll have a booming second career as a masseuse."

"A masseuse? Really, Mr. Steele" 

"Soft, tiny fingers mmmmm and knowing exactly where to"

"I guess I can pretend well too."

"You make a very convincing doctor. Handing out prescriptions with iron-fisted authority "

"Are you saying I ought to stop?" she removed her hands from his temples, disconcerted with his not-so-complimentary comment.

"Oh no- your bedside manner is impeccable gentle "

"I suppose it's my skilled fingers" she said, resuming the massage.

"And your lilting voice."

"Well, I prefer the agency myself," she said, smiling. "My boss is really something- did I ever tell you that?"

An eyebrow over a closed lid rose. "I assume 'something' is dashing debonair witty intelligent"

"And terribly modest."

"Well, Laura, we can't all be perfect," he managed, sleep finally beginning to take a firm hold.

"Some come close," she removed her hands and kissed him softly on the lips. "Rest now." She watched him for a moment, his face a picture of serenity. Careful not to make any noise, she approached the door and began to slowly close it behind her.

With one last glance at her recumbent employer, she whispered, "Good night, Mr. Steele" and shut the door soundlessly, before returning to the kitchen and the pile of dishes therein. 

He did not wake until morning, with a vague notion that he had been completely cured of insomnia. He decided he ought to go straight to his doctor's office just to make sure. A second opinion never hurt anyone. 


End file.
